Character Sketches
by Bandita-Dieci
Summary: Exploration of characters from PMMM. Mostly background work for upcoming story, so each sketch should be fairly short. Rated T for possible future sketches.
1. Mami

_Author's Note: These are, as the summary states, mostly just sketches of the characters. This one's a one-shot, although I may expand on it later. I just want to get used to the characters before possibly getting into a longer work._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything of PMMM, especially not Tomoe Mami. The spider witch, on the other hand, is original...I think?  
_

_So...now that _that_'s taken care of...on to the story?_

* * *

There was nothing quite like taking a deep breath and knowing that at any moment you could die.

The blonde stood outside of the witch's fractured barrier, watching the spider webbing of cracks along the brick wall in front of her, a wall that she knew would look just as it always did as soon as the witch was gone. Dead, gone, whichever happened first. And Mami was never sure which would happen first.

She took a deep breath, her golden yellow soul gem flashing brightly in front of her like a bomb about to go off. Some girls lived for the thrill, for life-threatening risks. They learned skateboarding tricks that if done just the wrong way would end up with their back broken, or they rode fast motorcycles through the streets without a helmet to feel the wind in their hair, or they jumped off of planes where if they didn't pull the strings at just the right time they'd splatter into a thousand pieces. On the one hand, thrill-seeking, in those controlled circumstances, might be fun. On the other, Mami was never really in a controlled circumstance. Or, if she was, it was never in her favor.

The crack widened in front of her soul gem, just enough for her to step inside, her school uniform shoes tapping lightly against the pavement. She hadn't transformed quite yet, noting the new structure of the barrier, the lack of familiars. If she was careful enough, perhaps she could reach the grief seed before the witch was completely born. Careful or lucky. She wasn't sure which.

Perhaps that should be Mami's character note – uncertainty. She was unsure how long she would live, unsure if she was experienced or lucky, unsure if she'd made the right decision to live this long, unsure if it was worth this aching loneliness. If anything, it was the loneliness that shadowed her soul gem, not the magic use. After a year of fighting witches – and most of that after studying war, strategy, tactics – she'd stopped using much magic, only just barely enough to kill the witches, protect herself, and get out. There was a certain rhythm to it, even with the different types of witches. Shoot, dodge, shoot again. Maybe she'd get a nick on the arm and would have to heal that with magic, but…even that was becoming a rarity. She was good at her job.

So why was she still so scared?

Mami walked through the witch's labyrinth, taking note of the webs looming in each corner and on each wall, steadily growing larger as the witch's breath became more potent. A skeletal familiar crept out of one web as she got further in, beady white eyes following her every move. It didn't attack yet, just…watched. Perhaps the witch could see through those eyes, too.

Although there were books on war and human battles, there was nothing detailing the processes of witches, nothing to explain their different systems or types, nothing to suggest exactly how a familiar could grow to become a witch of its own, or how they were not completely destroyed when the witch itself was. She'd assumed that those left in the witch's vicinity when she killed it vanished as well, but those that were out and about luring unwary passersby in – those were the ones she would have to hunt down later. That's why it was better to nip witches in the bud early, before they evolved much more than awakened from their grief seed. Less likelihood of familiars being out, less likelihood she'd have to fight them again, less likelihood of patching up loose threads.

Mami hated loose threads. They could too easily cost her the life she'd wished so hard to hold onto. And if she was going to have this life, she wanted to make it the best she possibly could – even if she was alone.

The grief seed was up ahead; Mami could feel its dark pulse deep in her soul. Just a few more steps. She probably wouldn't even have to change completely, just pull out a musket and shoot the thing. Too much magic would wake the witch, wake the witch and she'd have a real battle on her hands. She didn't want that. She wanted the process to be simple, easy, efficient. Not life-threatening in the least.

When she stepped into the deepest part of the barrier, the scenery changed subtly. The ground was simply a thick web, each silken thread laced so closely together that unless she looked closely – and she had to, as a magical girl, or risk losing her life – she wouldn't have even noticed the individual strands. It looked like white pavement. _Best not to touch it_, she thought, using one of her yellow ribbons to lift her carefully from the ground. It was magic use, but not so much as to provoke the witch. She walked along the ribbon until she reached the newborn witch, a large skeletal spider with piercing black eyes, its body protecting hundreds of eggs. It didn't move, and that frightened her. She summoned one of her muskets and placed it against the spider's head. Still nothing. Mami glanced at the spider then at the eggs beneath. She sighed. _Better safe than sorry._

Mami stepped back, conjuring thousands of rifles, each pointed at an egg, before setting them off. One bullet, two, three through each egg. Perhaps some would count it as overkill, but for Mami…overkill would keep her alive. The children dropped, and the large mother spider with fifteen bullets in its overstuffed head still hadn't moved. Black liquor leaked from each egg as they disappeared, a grief seed lying in the middle of them. The barrier began to vanish. Mami grabbed the seed before pocketing it. _Quick and simple._ She took another deep breath.

_Now to the next one._


	2. Kyouko

_Author's Note: This one actually requires a little bit more explaining._

_First, the majority of the parts in italics are flashbacks - except for the couple of moments where they're internal dialogue thought thingamajigs.  
Second, Homura's apartment does not look like it did either in Timeline 2 or the Main Anime Timeline. I figured that she probably went through a system of changes to her apartment before finally ending up with the one seen in the MAT. If all else fails, just assume it's the living room area of the apartment seen in T2.  
Third, I do draw a little bit of Kyoko's characterization near the end - especially the burning of her family residence - from the manga _The Different Story.

_This is still a one-shot, but if I get to that multi-timeline fanfic epic (whenever I decide I've brainstormed it out enough), I expect this'll play into one of those timelines (post-Homura-decides-to-kill-all-of-the-witches-herself). But then it'll be from her pov instead of Kyoko's. SO there. :)_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own PMMM. It'd be cool if I did, but not cool enough to waste a wish on.  
_

* * *

She landed in a half-crouch, one hand on the ground, the other against her back, gripping her spear. The edges of her red dress fluttered faintly against her thighs as the broken witch exploded behind her.

"_Good job, Kyoko! You're learning everything so quickly that soon you'll surpass me." The curly-haired blonde stood only a few feet from the mess the witch left behind, a cup of tea resting in one hand. She took a sip as Kyoko turned around and grinned when their eyes met._

_It was the first time the girl had ever seen her sempai with her hair down, and she had to admit, she was just as beautiful – perhaps more so than normal. She blushed at the thought, dispelling her spear from its place in her right hand. It felt so comfortable there that it gave her confidence, something she didn't need right now, not with the other girl looking at her like that._

_Mami's cup of tea disappeared into thin air as she bent to pick up the dark ebony grief seed the witch left behind. She gave it a once over before standing back up and tossing it to Kyoko. "Here. You earned this today."_

_The redhead caught the grief seed in one hand before transforming back. "You sure you don't need to use it?"_

"That won't be necessary."

Kyoko blinked rapidly as the witch barrier around her faded away. Her new partner – or as close to one as she could call it – gave her a hollow look, not that this was anything other than normal. If she didn't know better, she would have called the new girl a zombie behind her back or accused her of being a witch herself. All in good fun, of course.

She shook her head to clear the images of the past then pulled a packet of Pocky out of her back jeans pocket. She shook one of the chocolate cigarette-shaped things and placed it in the right corner of her mouth. Then, on second thought, she held the box out to the other girl as she passed by. "Want one?"

"No. I do not need it."

When the girl shook her head, her long black hair fell in her face, almost as if she wasn't used to it. Kyoko resisted the urge to reach over and push it back. Instead she smirked, one canine tooth biting her lip. "Didn't ask if ya _needed_ one, I asked if ya _wanted_ one!" She kept the box held out, the biscuits hopefully becoming almost tantalizing.

_Hah. That's a laugh. The only after snack that could be considered 'tantalizing' is Mami's cakes._

The other girl hesitated, unsure, standing absolutely still. Kyoko could see one finger twitch, fighting the urge to not take a biscuit stick. "C'mon, Homura. Ya've got to let loose sometime!"

Homura sighed and finally untransformed. The only noticeable difference Kyoko could see was the lack of her time shield. Sure, the colors of her partner's school uniform were different than those of her magical girl costume, but the basic design was identical. Passionless. It was almost as if both were some sort of duty to her, something she couldn't shrug off. Things like that made the homeless Kyoko choke.

When Homura was safely in her school uniform again, she reached over and took one of the biscuits. She stared at it blankly for a few seconds, and the fiery redhead had to bite her tongue to keep from ordering her to eat it. Food was, after all, made to be eaten, and it wasn't like Kyoko was starving. Not anymore. She watched until the girl took her first bite then shoved the nearly empty box back into her pocket. The road felt rough under her feet, the soles on her shoes so thin that she wouldn't have noticed if they weren't there. She began to shiver in the cold and pulled her blue-green jacket closer to her skinny frame. "Look, I'd love to hang out here and chat, but—"

There was a light spark in Homura's eyes when she looked back up at Kyoko, a few crumbs scattered about her lips. At least it wasn't the cold death Kyoko was used to seeing there, but it wasn't entirely warm either. She shivered once again.

"You're cold." The words were so lifeless that she almost missed the hint of a question there, as if Homura had never thought about that before. Before she could say anything, the other girl's violet eyes squinted as though making a decision. Then she said, "Do you have a place to stay?"

Kyoko opened her mouth to reply, but just as quickly shut it. She sneered. "Of course I have a place to stay." _It might be a dilapidated old cathedral with no heating, but I'm used to it by now._

Homura pressed her lips together tightly then shook her head. "No. You have to come with me." She started walking across the road in the opposite direction, barely looking up.

_When Kyoko wasn't looking, Mami grabbed a hold of her hand, that happy smile still plastered on her face. That smile beckoned to her, and she found that she couldn't help but smile, too. She laced her fingers through her sempai's and squeezed tightly. Then they headed back to the apartment._

The redhead looked up at the sky with a sigh, and her breath poofed white in the chilly air. She could have said no. But the starless sky indicated the possibility of snow or rain. Kyoko wasn't sure she could stand another wet night in that church, and if Homura offered—

Only a few feet ahead, Homura stopped walking, her head turned to watch Kyoko with those piercingly cold eyes. There may have been warmth there earlier for a millisecond, but now the coal was burnt out. Still, she had been able to bring it out – to arouse a fire, a kindling – for that moment. With another sigh, Kyoko shoved her hands further into her jacket pockets and rushed to catch up with the girl. This could be good, right?

Somehow she doubted that.

* * *

_"Kyoko, what's wrong?"_

The words rang in her head as she stood outside Homura's apartment, waiting for the girl to unlock the door. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be spending time with this girl, and she didn't want to see inside her apartment. She didn't want to stay in this place, despite how warm it would be compared with her own church. But she was willing to take the punishment.

Kyoko glanced at the nameplate and was unsurprised to find that Homura's was the only one there, just like her old sempai's. Perhaps that was the fate of all magical girls – not death, but to live alone. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to generate warmth. "Can ya go any faster?"

Almost as soon as she spoke, the door clicked open. Homura pushed her hair out of the way with a side swipe. It fell back, and Kyoko resisted the urge to pull it back out of the way and tuck it behind the girl's ears.

She wasn't even pretty.

Kyoko stepped into the apartment, unsure exactly what she was expecting. Maybe a simple bed and computer with stacks of books scattered across the floor. Maybe a storage locker full of the guns and weapons Homura had an insane tendency to pull out of thin air. Maybe even a robot building garage with maintenance for the girl who lived there, like something out of a movie. But certainly not what lay inside.

_The blonde with curly twintails stood inside a pleasant room with bright colored rugs and a couch. She beckoned Kyoko inside and gestured to one of the seating areas. "Have a seat!" She smiled as Kyoko plopped down on the couch, stretching herself out almost completely across the thing. She spread her arms across the back and propped her booted feet up on the glass table. Mami moved into the kitchen and began rummaging in the refrigerator, searching for something with the clinking and tinkling of glass containers hitting each other._

_ "What'cha looking for?" Kyoko asked, sitting upright and dropping her feet from the table. She grimaced at the marks she left on the clear table and began rubbing at it with her hand, which didn't make it any better. The mud just spread further across the table, turning it from a clear complexion to something like watered down coffee. Then she noticed the muddy tracks she left across the hardwood floor and the spot next to the door where Mami had left her own heeled uniform shoes. "Um…Mami?"_

_ Her companion poked her head around the wall separating her from the living room. "What's wrong?" She laughed as she watched her friend furtively wipe at the glass table. Kyoko kept swiping at it, hoping that she could get more of the mud off, but the more she tried, the more it seemed to just expand. And the wiping only got it all over her jacket, so that now she was afraid to lean back on the couch anymore for fear of getting the mud all over the couch. She shook the jacket off and began using it as a paper towel, trying to clean it up with that. It seemed to be working a lot better._

_ Mami stepped out of the kitchen and into the room, carefully avoiding each of the mud footprints on the floor. She placed a hand on Kyoko's now quite bare shoulder. The touch made her skin tingle with warmth. "It'll be ok. I'll clean it up later, alright?"_

_ It wasn't really a question, and she knew without a doubt that this girl would do so almost as soon as she left. Mami was one of the cleanest girls she had ever met. Then again, other than school, witch hunting, and their time together soon after, Mami didn't have anything else to do with her life. The house was empty of anything but the barest necessities, like food, a couch, and a bed. What she had may have been bright and colorful, but it was sparse._

_ That was one of her favorite things about Mami – although she most certainly had the money to shower herself with unnecessary trivialities, she didn't. She understood the value of a dollar in the same way that Kyoko herself did, although for entirely different reasons. Kyoko's was one born of poverty, but Mami had to remember that her every dollar came from the corpses of her parents and her ill-worded wish._

_ Kyoko nodded and leaned her head against Mami. The other girl seated herself on the arm of her couch and cradled her friend's head against her ample chest. She stroked Kyoko's hair without thinking, her fingers snagging at the black ribbon bow. Kyoko undid her hair, taking it out of the ponytail and letting it flow freely down her back. She knew as she closed her eyes that Mami felt secure in petting her hair, and she felt content just sitting there._

She would never feel content sitting here.

Homura's apartment was just as sparse as Mami's and nearly as homey. Or, at least, it would be if not for the fact that it was Homura's apartment. The entirety was bland and colorless – more trends of grey with the occasional accent of blue or red – than the bright welcoming atmosphere of Mami's apartment. Furthermore, there wasn't a kitchen in sight. Kyoko kicked off her brown boots at the door, leaving them on the mat. The tile floor was cold beneath her bare feet, even though the rest of the room felt much warmer than it had outside. She followed Homura into the living room, where a muted red futon-shaped couch waited. The girl gestured to it before heading out of the room.

Kyoko sat on the couch, tucking her feet under her legs to keep them warm, then poked at the fabric. It was firm. Too firm to really be called comfortable, but not so firm as to be rock solid. The fabric itself wasn't soft, but it wasn't scratchy either. Just…somewhere in-between everything and just enough to the wrong side that Kyoko felt a little…off sitting there. She pulled the packet of Pocky out of her pocket and set it on the wooden coffee table in front of her. This room was far too quiet.

"What'cha looking for?"

Just as soon as she asked, Homura appeared again, a tower of blankets and pillows in her hands. "I figured you might want one of these." She dropped them down on the floor next to the red couch. "They should keep you warm enough."

_She thinks I'm staying here overnight_, Kyoko thought as Homura sat in the blue chair next to her and placed her hands calmly in her lap. Sitting this close, she could see the gentle waves in her partner's hair, the snags and tangles between one curve and the next. Obviously Homura had never met Mami or the blonde girl would have made sure her hair was smooth. Then again, if Homura and Mami were working together, what was Kyoko here for? With her lack of magic, she would only bring her former sempai down.

She snatched a blanket and spread it over herself as she lay down along the length of the couch. It was better than sleeping on the hardwood floor again. Much better. Kyoko curled up beneath the blanket to conserve as much heat as she could. "I'm gonna get some shut eye," she said, but the words felt wrong coming from her lips. She closed her eyes, hoping that Homura would walk away and leave her be.

The gentle clacking of Homura's shoes on the gray tile floor alerted her to the girl's slowly disappearing presence. When the sound stopped only a few feet away, Kyoko feigned snoring, hoping that the girl would take the hint and go away. But Homura just stood there without moving. Finally, she spoke in words barely above a whisper, so quiet that later Kyoko would swear that nothing was really said.

"I'm sorry."

The words made Kyoko sit up rapidly, pushing the blanket back, her red eyes wide open. But there was no one there. She shivered once again, but this time it wasn't from the cold.

_I'm never doing this again, no matter how much I need warmth. This is so not worth it._

Kyoko cradled herself beneath the blanket again, forcing her eyes to shut, to let herself sleep. She trusted Homura with her life in battles against witches, so why did she have such a hard time trusting that the girl wouldn't murder her in her sleep? Perhaps it was the vague apology that gave her comfort and finally allowed her to sleep. She understood the regret that hid in those feeble words for the many times she'd uttered them where no one but herself could hear them.

"_I'm sorry."_

_Kyoko stood in front of the remains of her old house. Black ashes stirred in the wind; she feebly wiped them from her red-rimmed eyes. For days, she had been unable to cry. Even when she found her father's body, her mother's, her sister's – no tears then, either. Only shock, resignation, acceptance. The fire was the genius stroke of a mind made steady by all the unexpected events in a witch fight. She was used to dealing with random stuff like this. And maybe it hadn't happened as directly to her before, but that didn't mean she couldn't still think straight. Mami, for all her joy and exuberant cheer, was extremely logical and precise when it came to witches. She'd been able to impart a little of that to her protégé._

_A protégé who now realized she could never return to her golden-haired sempai._

_No, she couldn't call her that anymore. That relationship was broken. It had to be. With her magic gone, she couldn't expect Mami to protect her. She wouldn't put her in danger like that. This curse was her own, and she would hold it to herself. If she died, she would die alone._

_A deep breath of ashy air later, and Kyoko transformed out of her red costume, leaving only her sooty clothes. She was going to need to clean these eventually. Or maybe, when she got new ones, she would burn these, too. Anything to get rid of the past._

_Anything._


	3. Sayaka

_Author's Note: Eeeeeh...not as long as the Kyoko. But still good, I think. And, yeah, I know that originally the black strings coming out of Elsa Maria are dragons, not hands or arms, but I figured...since they were hands at the end, it would be ok to use hands here. If it helps, you could consider this a slightly alternate timeline? But that's up to you. This is made to be compatible with the original._

_It'd be interesting, I think, to see what Kyoko was thinking during this battle - while she was watching and everything, especially since Homura seemed interested in it. Hmmm..._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own PMMM. Or Sayaka. Or any of the characters. Etc, etc, etc.  
_

* * *

All of her life she'd heard about heroes.

_The black hands moved far too fast for her, grabbing her about the arms. She struggled against their hold, twisting her wrist – there was a sharp snap, but she felt nothing – until it was free and loose enough to angle her sword in just the right way—_

Most of them were men, knights in steel armor on white horses, but not all of them. Her particular favorites were the fairytales where the heroes were random men – peasants or thieves, even – stepping out of their bounds for the women they loved, even when it meant sacrificing what they loved most.

_The black dropped from around her, their thin wrists dripping shapeless red blood. Her wrist, on the other hand, was fine._

_ Just fine._

Rapunzel, for instance, and her prince.

_Dodge that arm, slice another one, jump back just out of reach with the sword facing forward and—_

That poor boy fell and had his eyes pierced out by thorns. When Rapunzel escaped and found him, her tears cured his blindness. Then they lived happily ever after.

_**THWACK.**_

Why couldn't she have that?

_Another arm entwined around hers; she cut it off, but that wasn't enough. More black arms swarmed her. She was going to be needing to break that wrist again._

But none of these even held a candle to the story of the smart ugly prince and the dumb, beautiful girl. She'd heard it so long ago that she'd forgotten their names, but that was ok. She remembered the story.

Once upon a time, there was a prince born to the king and queen of some faraway land. However, when he was born, he was cursed to be incredibly smart but forever ugly. But this curse came with a blessing. If he ever fell in love, then he could give the same intelligence to his girl.

Years and years passed until, finally, the prince came across a beautiful young peasant girl. Although the brunette was incredibly dull, she still fell madly in love with the prince. The two were happy together. When the prince told her of his curse and blessing, she revealed she had a similar one – she was cursed to be incredibly beautiful but forever dull. The prince smiled at that and healed her. In return, the girl healed him, and they lived happily ever after together – both beautifully intelligent and hauntingly beautiful.

That's what she wanted. Reciprocation of some sort. Of any sort, really.

_No, better thought._

_ She jumped high into the sky – higher, higher, higher – all of the arms reaching up and for her, but she was out of reach; they scratched at her bare arms, the white of her cape, trying to soil it with their blood and hers, but no matter what they did, it never showed. Never._

_ The ebony fingers dug into her skin like the hungry pull of zombies._

_ Hah. Zombies._

The boy – her prince – she'd healed him. It would only be right for him to do the same. Perhaps it was the switching gender role – she couldn't be the prince unless he was willing to be the princess, the damsel in distress. No, it was different than that; she couldn't be the princess until she stopped being the prince. And she couldn't be either unless she stopped being a magical girl.

_At the peak of her soaring jump, she turned in midair. There wasn't a wall, not really, but her magic supplied one for her to jump off. She heard a snapshot of music behind her as she flew just as quickly back towards the black, praying witch knelt on the ground ahead of her._

Magical girls – she'd seen them as a special sort of heroine. She didn't have to be a princess; she had magic! She could heal multiple people, herself least of all. Kill the evil witches, protect people from their own suffocating despair; heal the boy, protect him from his overwhelming depression. She'd be taking care of two birds with one stone. People were, after all, basically good; they just needed a savior to help them out every now and again. She would be that savior. She would step up and, with magic, right every wrong! It was worth putting her life on the line for that.

And, of course, in the end she would get the boy. This was a true love story. His love was her reward.

_**SLAM! **__**Crackle**__**. Pop.**_

_ There was that dang wrist again._

But he could never love her when she had a body like this.

* * *

Sayaka dropped all too easily into the cradle of black hands, attacking and being attacked by them. They welcomed her like a long-lost lover, smothering her within their seismic grasp. But at least she was being held. Even if she was dying, it fulfilled a deep-seated longing. That crushing was only what she deserved for what she became, after all.

One last breath of the dusky mint smell of this witch's blood.

_Mami, I'm sorry. I wasn't able to live up to your all-encompassing protection._

One last breath to the sweet sleep of death.

_I'm sorry you had to be here for this, Madoka._

One last breath before oblivion.

_I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you, Kyo—_

The red in the sky was unsurprising. Probably just spatters of her blood as she was crushed to dust. Odd that she could still see it. Odd that she could still think. Really just an all-out odd situation. Was this how it felt to die as a magical girl? Feeling nothing but seeing everything? Perhaps it didn't hurt Mami so much after all.

Then—

The flashes of red she first assumed were just bright spots in her blackening view became sharp, needling, pointed. The hands of charcoal fell from around her, a piercing spear surrounding them – a prince catching her, carrying her to safety.

No. Not a prince. The opposite. A fallen hero – like Hamlet to his insanity.

_"There's an easier way to make a guy you fell in love with yours. Use that magic you worked so hard for. Rush in there right now and break his hands and legs so he'll never be able to use them again. Make him totally helpless without you. Then he'll be yours…body and soul."_

She had to admit, it was tempting. There was an unexpected ease to thinking about it while she was being rescued by someone so completely unlike her prince. For all she knew, for all she'd done for him, for all he'd done for her since being out of the hospital, that wish was almost—

**No!**

As her feet touched the ground once more, Sayaka refuted the part of her that even remotely considered hurting Kyosuke. To force his choice like that would be no good. She wanted him to choose her because he wanted to do so, because he loved her, not for any other reason. In fact, even as Hitomi was confessing, she hoped that he would deny the other girl, admit that he always loved her instead. But with all the evidence – when he didn't notice her there at school, he didn't come to her, he didn't even call to let her know that he was out of the hospital—

No. A savior didn't act for the personal gain. She acted to save others. Mami-san had never acted so selfishly as she was thinking now. She'd always helped without a thought for herself – even to the end! She wasn't sure she could live up to that, not with her lack of experience, her lack of potential, her lack of talent. But she intended to die trying.

…when did Kyoko get here? …and what was that she was saying?

The part of her paying some sort of remote attention must have said something before rushing off, but she wasn't quite sure what it was.

* * *

_The hands swarmed again, but she sped through them. It was easier when she was paying attention, when the flow of battle flowed through her. This was almost instinctive, and she drew some pleasure from the speed._

_ There was the witch. The girl kneeling forward, begging, pleading. For what? Death and despair? Maybe she didn't know what she was doing. Then again, it didn't really much matter if she understood or not. She still had to be eliminated._

Every story has a heroine. A wide-eyed idealist. A princess. It wasn't Sayaka's fault that she wasn't it.

_Her sword hacked into the main corpse, chopping off the head with one single, simple stroke, and black and red both embraced her again. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew there was pain. Right now she just felt exhausted._

_ Slap-happy, really._

And slaughtering this hopeful witch was like destroying her own hopes and dreams and giving up in resignation. This was the fate of a magical girl. She was only giving up herself.

So why did her despair feel tinged with so much joy?

_"It's really true! If I just detach myself, I really don't feel any pain!"_

_ Not even when I lie._


	4. Madoka

_Author's Note: There is something wrong with me when it is easier to write from Kyubey's point of view than it is to write from Madoka's...which really means that you should look out for a Kyubey sketch soon. Honestly, Madoka is super hard to write...for me, at least.  
Anyway.  
_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own PMMM. This is unfortunate, but true. It probably wouldn't be nearly as good if I _did_ own it, so...I'm glad the owners own it. That said...__  
_

* * *

Lights. It might have been night, but all her attention was on the lights in the sky. Normal people called them stars, but on a night when the city lost its power and they were the only thing illuminating the dark streets – they were her lights. Well, that and the moon, but she hadn't really noticed that yet. She could see the moon on pretty much any night, and while she _did_ love the moon, tonight her eyes were enraptured with the cosmic display above her. She'd never seen the stars before.

They were beautiful.

When she looked up into what was usually a highlighted glowing abyss, there was now a smattering of glitter sparkling across the night sky. She couldn't stop herself from constantly looking up and just staring at them on her walk home. She loved them. She wanted to see more of them. Every night. Some people might think that seeing the stars so consistently would make them plain and take away their beauty, but she doubted it. She still loved her best friend, Sayaka, even though they saw each other practically daily, so she was sure if she saw the stars nightly they wouldn't lose their attraction to her.

About halfway home from her friend's house, Madoka sat down on a bench, only able to watch the sky. She knew she should be getting home soon – Momma was probably worried – but she couldn't help herself. As soon as the city's power came back, they would be gone. The loss of power was the reason she was returning home in the first place; although she was probably safer at Sayaka's house, with the home phones out of service…. She'd felt it'd be better to go home. She'd traveled this way hundreds of times and been perfectly safe. Tonight would be no different.

Except that it was. Perhaps she should have listened to Sayaka and spent the night there. But then she wouldn't have gotten to know the stars.

Madoka gazed at the twinkling lights above her, feasting on them. There were constellations – she knew that they existed, but she was unsure what they were. No, that's not true. She was a better student than that, so she knew what they were in theory – the Zodiac, of course, were related to the stars. But she didn't know what the constellations looked like. Not in the sky. That set over there – the one that looked almost like a straight line – was probably part of something, but she didn't know what. Still, they were fascinating. If she tried hard enough, she could connect the dots and make her own patterns. She sighed in contentment, not even noticing the little white animal slowly appearing next to her on the bench. Without seeing it, she decided to get up and continue to head home. Momma would be worried if she didn't show up soon. When she began to leave, the white animal followed along behind.

The days were finally lengthening into summer. Madoka was excited for the new season, but a little bit sad. Summer reminded her how useless she was. During school, she would often see her friends. She was kept busy and occupied. But in the summer, without anything else to do, she found that she would often just sit around the house. She'd go out when invited, but when she was by herself…nothing. It wasn't that there wasn't anything she wanted to do, but that…there were others so much better at it. She wasn't yet sure what she was best at, what she should be doing with her life. She felt passionless. She hated it.

A warm breeze blew through the air, knocking little bits of trash across the street, a crumpled pink paper landing at Madoka's feet. She closed her eyes before bending down to pick it up – recycle or throw away, leave litter for another day! – and when she opened them, she noticed it, the white animal standing right behind her. Her bright eyes widened in astonishment.

"Hi! I'm Kyubey!" The animal smiled and nodded his cute little head, the long white tufts coming out of his catlike ears bobbing slightly. The rose-haired girl resisted the urge to reach forward and tug on them. Something about the animal reverted her into a little girl again – almost like Tatsuya, her brother. His lips had yet to move, but she didn't seem to notice that. The voice speaking directly into her mind was much too pleasant. "I want you to form a contract with me and become a magical girl!"

_What?_ Madoka stated at the little white creature with the cute, smiling face, its eyes closed in excitement. She wasn't sure what to say. "Yes!" Could she just say yes to that? What would Momma say? Did it even matter? _A magical girl_! She could do something – anything – be…_useful_. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. Surely, as a magical girl, she would be required to fight something. But that was okay! However, she expected something else was involved, something she was missing, otherwise the little creature – Kyubey – would have already turned her into one. She opened her mouth to ask—

"Good! All you have to do is wish for something!" the creature added, reopening its – his? – eyes. "Anything you want, and I will fulfill it! But only one thing." It gave her an almost stern look, his eyes wide and focused only on her. "And in return—"

Madoka didn't listen to the rest of the sentence, too oblivious and absorbed in the idea of becoming a magical girl. He was probably explaining what it was she was going to be fighting, so she supposed she should be paying attention. But with the realization that there were things to fight in the world, her focus switched from the fight to what she would really be doing – protecting something. Whatever the horrible things were, they would eventually come after her – or Momma, Papa, or Tatsuya. As a magical girl, she could make sure that nothing bad would happen to them. That was worth just about anything. _Anything._

So…what would she wish?

She could wish to see the stars every night for the rest of her life…but that just seemed selfish. With all of the bad things going on in the world, she couldn't wish for such a little thing as that. She could just wait until another time to see them. Madoka nodded to herself with a smile. It wasn't that she couldn't think of anything she wanted; there were just so many other people suffering, and that was much more pressing. She had a good life. She wanted to think of something to help them more. Like finding a cure for cancer. Isn't that what Momma would have her do?

The main problem with the power being out throughout the city was the loss of streetlamps. That semi-truck probably didn't even see the black cat trying to cross the road. But Madoka did. She saw it happen in horrifying reality – how the semi hit the cat, shattered its bones, ripped it straight in half. If the stars were beautiful, then this destruction took their beauty, turned it on its head, and multiplied it. What's worse was that she knew what would happen next. She'd seen carcasses along the side of the road, the vultures and flies hovering around their broken bodies, the green stench that rose from them in most cartoons, although she knew from experience that it didn't in real life.

Not this cat. Not now. Not when she could do something to save it.

"Save her!" Madoka shouted quickly, barely looking at Kyubey. She pointed at the cat before turning to the fluffy white animal sitting next to her. "I wish to save that cat that just got hit by the semi!"

It was a quick, painless thing, her wish. Considering it and all the possibilities one moment and gone the next. But the thing of it was, even as a bright, shining pink gem came floating out of her chest, she didn't regret it. Maybe there were other things she could have wished for, but…she could save people as a magical girl. She might find healing purposes with her magic, and if not—that was a wish someone else could make. If she'd let that cat get hit, no one else would have saved her. No, no, this was right.

And now she'd have magic! And the ability to be something more than she once was!

This was going to be the best thing ever!


	5. Kyubey

_Author's Note: This is probably going to be my last character sketch for a bit. Now that I've gone through each of the main girls - minus Homura - and Kyubey, I feel like I understand them enough (with perhaps the exception of Madoka, she's still iffy) to write them in _Stuck in Reverse_. So that's probably what's going to be posted next. We'll see?  
Anyway - I hope you guys enjoy Kyubey's sketch! It's a little weird because I try not to use his/her since I think it's more gender neutral (which is a pain because I keep wanting to call it a "he"), so...please let me know if that's confusing at all!_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own PMMM. Or any of the characters. Etc.  
_

* * *

And then there were all the other species throughout the universe with whom they were contracting, the different colors associated with that – and sometimes not even conceptual colors – until everything just became either dark and black or pure light and full of color. Death and life, and often the two combined because it wouldn't have quite understood how dark the darkness was without seeing how bright the light could often be.

The blonde girl it was currently watching was a mix. Right now, unlike normal, her soul held a fiendishly dark taint, which, to it, seemed brighter and more hopeful. Enough darkness there would bring an explosion of depressive light, the same sort of explosion that the girl she was fighting – she might be a witch now, but it always saw the girl – had only a few hours earlier gone through. The transformation looked painful, the dark soul breaking her fragile bonds and corrupting them, the girl's puppet changing form to match the soul.

It'd been waiting almost two years for Mami's soul to ignite.

The yellow girl standing before it now aimed guns nearly twice her size – not Tiro Finale; she only used that when she was showing off – at the spiral-shaped familiar blobs in front of her before finally destroying their squid-like leader. She brushed a few stray hairs out of her face while she transformed back into her school uniform, casually picking up the broken soul; cleaning the depression, weight, despair of her own with it; and then placing it neatly in a hidden pocket somewhere on her person.

Unfortunately for Kyubey, she was no nearer becoming a witch than she had been when she first contracted so long ago. If anything, she was further from it. But perhaps tonight could change all that.

The white alien puppet – similar to the body of a magical girl, its real essence was somewhere else – continued to watch as she sighed, a gesture which meant very little to it. It only knew that the girl liked to keep it around often – for company, or so it had heard. After millennia of watching these humans, it still couldn't understand why humans so craved each other and so desperately avoided spending mass quantities of their time alone. It had certainly never seen or known another of its kind. Was that sort of association really all that fulfilling?

For all it'd seen, and for all its thoughts, this did not seem to be the case, at least not for the magical girl still working beneath it. She'd been both at her strongest, and at her weakest, when training the red-haired girl now residing in the next city over. _Kyoko_, it reminded itself. After a while, the humans all looked the same to it, just mounds of flesh and scatterings of potential with the most uninventive, illogical labels. "Kyoko", for one. Even worse – "Mami". There were humans on the other – small ones – who labeled their mothers that in a generic fashion. So why make it a specific label?

But the Incubator wasn't here to judge, just to harvest. Its girls would just be so much harder to handle if it forgot their names. They liked to think it was their friend, some sort of floppy-eared companion or mascot, and it'd done nothing to dissuade them. Let them believe what they want while they're still alive. Their actions would only draw more girls in.

It watched through dark pink eyes as the yellow girl began to walk down the street, bright soul held in the palm of her hand. Her light remained steady, not pulsing as she did when a witch was near. It could tell she was going to stop soon, just as it felt bright pink flashes a few miles to the right, in the opposite direction. The pink girl with the fluffy dress would probably die soon if it didn't send help, and a dead magical girl would be unable to be used to save the universe. She needed to die as a full-grown witch, not a half-baked kid.

And perhaps if she became friends with Mami, she could drag her down with her death just as Kyoko once had with her overwhelming depression and betrayal.

It dashed after the yellow-haired girl so as to appear out of breath. The illusion of its hurry would make her hurry, thinking the other girl would be on the end of her rope. She wasn't, but this would cause the desired result, it knew that much.

"Mami!"

The yellow girl stopped at the sound of her name. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Incubator stopped in front of her, panting. "Witch…near the train station. There's another magical girl out there!"

Now, to most of its slaves, this would mean nothing. Kyoko, for instance, might have ignored it – or fought the girl encroaching on her territory. Mami, on the other hand, would hear its words, see its panic, and automatically assume there was something wrong, even though it had said nothing of the sort. It watched as the girl's eyes grew wide. She raced off, not caring if it followed her or not. Kyubey chose to give chase, carrying the illusion brought about by its carefully chosen words and actions. That, and it probably wouldn't be too bad to be there, even if it could see the fight without actually being present.

The pink flashes were growing fainter until the glowing golden light appeared. With one fell swoop, the childlike crayon witch died. The golden light approached the pink one, and with the tap of a swirling dark seed, purified the dark absences in her soul. The lights grew brighter.

The Incubator let the girls do their talking, only barely listening. Their conversation was of no use to it, unless one of them were to ask it a question. It would be far better to fade out of their sights, now that the yellow puppet gestured to it with a smile. It wasn't needed here anymore.

The endless battle between light and dark – and the two mixtures, the gray, dim areas – continued on, and the Incubator watched for the opportunity to turn the balance in the universe's favor.


End file.
